


When Demons Fall

by LordGrimwing



Series: No Home Stories [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Demons, Half-Human, Voodoo, Voodoo dolls, sanskrit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordGrimwing/pseuds/LordGrimwing
Summary: A new leader is making himself known in the outer regions of the land. Yuvan's targeting the asura, the strongest demons, first.Sandstorm was just trying to enjoy a quiet evening.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for all the Sanskrit words, but I was having too much fun to stop.
> 
> And yeah, this could take place in the same world as "A Thing for Fliers"

The little city of Puri lay nestled between the Jala Lake and ancient trees of the Achala mountain range. The city had stood for many years, since the grandmothers’ grandmothers had arrived from the east with the sun. The people of Puri enjoyed long, temperate, summers, and short, cool winters. They were happy, prosperous, and experienced an easy relationship with the natives.     

    This evening marked the beginning of Tejomaya, the festival of light. Both humans and the creatures of the wild wandered through the city streets, full of delight in the glowing orbs that drifted by. In the markets, vendors called out greetings to their favorite customers, asking about family, friends, and offering celebration bargains. There were, of course, the few natives who kept to the fringes of the light, lingering just near enough to watch but not be fully visible to those at the festivities. Then, there were those who others wished would stay away.

    “How much?” The rumbling growl and too muscular fingers that poked at a plucked goose almost caused the boy working the stand to cry out in fright and run.

    “Not much. Not much.” He assured, voice trembling as he stared up at the giant man. Head shaved, skin painted, the half-breed almost looked to be a true demon from one of Achala’s cave: hunched body, clawed hands and feet. The eyes were what gave him away. Green as the trees and far too expressive. “Three shekels only.”

    With a snort, the man dropped the metal balls into the boy’s hands. scooping up the large fowl as if it were nothing, he walked away. Withered wings curled against his broad back, the half-breed swung his purchase as he walked down the streets, free hand poking at the floating spheres when they passed.

    He wasn’t welcomed here. He could feel it. The people of Puri may accept the native demon spawn but mixing with them was still an abomination. It irked him. To see his father’s kind in the forests, his mother’s in the city, accepted by each other, and him, shunned by both. At least during Tejomaya no one had the gall to tell him to leave, to shout at him to keep away from them.

    Snarling to himself, the half-breed left the main streets, choosing paths that lead him away from the areas more filled with people and the more ‘friendly’ demons.

    “Didn’t expect to see you here, Sandstorm.”

    The man looked up at the words. “Sideswipe.” He greeted, a horrifying grin splitting his face.

    The tall, though not quite as tall as Sandstorm, demon moved closer. His feathered body spoke of the sky, but his thick build testified of a life lived on the ground. “You look as good as ever.” His red plumage puffed out slightly as he bent and prodded the dead bird. “Good goose too. Bet it’s almost as good as a swan.”

    “What are you doing here? Thought your brother said this wasn’t your thing.” Sandstorm, pulled his punches away from the demon’s hands. He wasn’t worried his sometimes-friend-sometimes-a-little-more would try to take it, but Sideswipe did tend to get carried away.

    “Don’t tell the humans this,” Sideswipe grinned, his serrated teeth glinting in the dim light from the festival. “But Sunny and I heard about a group of humans coming this way who are spoiling for a fight. You’re welcome to join us, as always.”

    “No thank you.” The half-breed stepped back, he prefered not getting involved in demon/human conflicts, he relied too much on either kind to alienate one. “I’m going to go eat.” He turned to leave, signalling an end to the conversation.

    “Say.” The demon lay his clawed hand on Sandstorm’s shoulder. “We’ll be around for a few days yet, regardless of the evening’s outcome. I and Sunstreaker wouldn’t say no to a familiar face for an evening. . . or day.” He trailed his hand down the broad, muscular back, but let the larger being go without further comment.

    “Maybe.” Sandstorm walked out of the city, heading for the cave up in the Achalas he called home. With any luck, his fire would still be burning and he could cook the goose without too much trouble.

  
  
  


    Sandstorm hadn’t expected anyone to be in his cave, let alone for that someone to know him. A few years ago, he’d fallen in with some. . . interesting folks. At first he hadn’t realized that Disturbia and Architeuthis were anything other than water and sky demons, but it’d taken only a few run weeks for him to realize they were asura, not pisachas. Compared to the duo, the demons who lived in the mountains were nothing but children. The circumstances around Sandstorm’s leaving them were. . . strained, to say the least. But finding out the asura had a taste for humans had been a good enough reason to keep his distance. Thus it was with great surprise that Sandstorm found Disturbia crouched in his cave, over the still body of her partner.

    “What do you want?” He asked, cautiously approaching the asura.

    Disturbia turned to face him, leathery wings raising over her head, light from the full moon illuminating the paints and clay streaked cross her half naked body, silver liquid dripped from her flat nose. “Be silent.” She ordered.

    It took much of the half-breed considerable willpower to ignore the command. And the realization that the belt of magic dolls Architeuthis always wore was missing. “What happened to Archi?” Despite her hissing, and the knowledge that Disturbia could kill him easier than he a fly, Sandstorm knelt by the still asura’s head.

    “The humans from another city.” Disturbia moved next to him, long fingers running over the water demon’s dark skin. Sandstorm recalled that Archi’s skin would normally shine in the moonlight, but now he was hard pressed even to see it. The six tentacles no longer sprouted from his shoulders and back.

    “What about them?” Surely not the ones Sideswipe and his brother were planning to fight, they wouldn’t stand a chance against anything, human or not, that could take down an asura. “Did you attack them?”

    “No!” The screech was high enough that Sandstorm considered believing the words. “They attacked us! They knew when to do it!” The sky demon’s hands moved faster, trying to feel some life inside the cold body.

    “What did they do to Archi?” Sandstorm repeated, trying to understand.

    “THEY BANISHED HIM!!”

    Sandstorm froze. Even a human would know the meaning behind those words. Long ago it had been found that killing the more powerful demons, the asura, was nigh on impossible. However, separating an aura’s spirit and body, banishing the spirit into some other, less dangerous, vessel could nullify its powers  for many years. For a long time after humans discovered how to banish them, asura kept well away, hiding in the darker parts of the land, devising ways to fight against the spells of banishment. Sandstorm had yet to catch any whisper of more than slight success.

    “Disturbia.” The half-breed pulled at his old friend’s shoulder, trying to calm the frantic asura. “They had to put Archi’s soul into something with enough shakti to keep him bound.” There wasn’t much in this region what would fit that requirement, meaning the attackers either had their own shakti vessel, or used one of the asura’s own. Sandstorm stared at the spiritless water demon, what object was capable of trapping his soul?

    “Where are his dolls?”

    Disturbia tilted her painted head, not understanding.

    “Archi’s pranasakti jalayaana. His putri. The cloth dolls he carries around all the time.” If he remembered correctly, the plush figurines were imbued with enough power to serve as binding vessels.

    Wish a hiss, Disturbia cast her black eyes about, as if just realizing the belt was gone. “The humans must have taken it.” Waves of furry rippled off her. “Malaja spown!” She spat. “I will find them. Find them and throw them into a goha for this.” The asura rose, turning toward the world outside the cave

    “Wait.” Sandstorm clasped his large hand over her skeletal shoulder. “If you go after them like this, they’ll trap and banish you too.” As much as he disliked both asura on the occasion, he couldn’t stand to see them hurt in such a way.

    “What do you suggest then?!” The dried fluids made Disturbia’s snarl all the more horrifying. “Let them live to inflict their will on him?!” Being banished by humans was always a sore subject.

    “No.” He tried to sound calm, deep voice soft as he could manage. “But a plan for getting the vessel away from them would be helpful.”

    Disturbia looked down, scuffing the ground with her claws, thinking over the words. “You’re words are wise.” She paused, turning to better face Sandstorm. “But, if you create a plan and come with me, who will make sure nothing happens to Archi’s body? I wouldn’t want any humans or pisachas to find him in this state.”

    The strong half-breed had only just began to raise his arms in defense when the asura lunged. She made short work of her quarry, leaving him stunned, withered wings tied to a large rock. “I’ve never been much for planning.” Architeuthis was the planner, the skeemer. She was the actor.

    With a threatening screech, the sky demon threw herself into the night sky, flying off in search for her attackers and Archi’s belt of yogita dolls.

  
  
  
  


    Yuvan and his trusted rathabandha sat around their small fire, reminiscing of old fights, and praising each other for the bravery and skill they showed that day in the defeating of the asura. Yuvan smiled at his warriors’ banter, they had indeed done well. The now banished asura had been powerful indeed and they could but thank their lucky stars that it’d been foolish enough to carry vessels powerful enough to contain it. The news of their victory would spread quickly, and by this time tomorrow, all of Puri would know of the banishing.

    Speaking of which. Yuvan looked over at the birdcage set next to him. Within, lay one of the white dolls the asura had been waring. Every few seconds, a small shiver ran through the cloth body as the demon’s spirit struggled to break from its woven bonds. The stitched ‘x’s that made its eyes and mouth seemed almost to glow in the fire’s light.   

    “As hard as you try, you won’t get out.” The atiratha murmured, patting the top of the cage with a battle hardened hand. “The power in your own creation will keep you bound for many years, subject to my will.”

    Yuvan felt the demon’s anger, but trapped within the doll, it had no power to act without his say so. “And should that other raksas come back,” he poked a finger into the cage, jabbing the putri and muttering a few syllables. The fire flashed green. “I know how to use your powers.”

    The anger faded, replaced with a chilling fear.

    Oh yes, Yuvan had the asura fully in his power now.

  
  
  
  
  


    Late the next day, Disturbia returned to the cave. Sandstorm was still bound to the rock, though he paced the ground, straining at the enchanted ropes. Architeuthes’ spiritless body still lay in the shadows. Her wings burned from the long flight. Her body trembled from exhaustion. But eclipsing all that, was the pain that cut to her very soul. The pain from knowing that the humans could make her ardhika, her partner, do.  


End file.
